


cliché

by rangerhitomi



Series: radical dreamers [17]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4935871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rangerhitomi/pseuds/rangerhitomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Durbe tries to find an opening to slip a ridiculous romantic cliché into his night with Nasch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cliché

It’s a game of sorts, trying to keep their relationship a secret from nosy bureaucrats and gossipy palace servants. Slipping in little kisses before meeting with dignitaries. Embraces accompanied by soft, coded whispers to meet at one place or another that night. Narrow escapes from the palace in the dead of night on the back of a winged horse, always ending with exhilarated laughs and gentle kisses.

They shouldn’t, but it doesn’t matter to either of them. Not when they are so young and their hearts set on freedom.

More than once, the prince would ask his knight if they could just _leave_ for a few days, a week – not to abandon the kingdom, of course, but for a short break from rules and procedures and expectations – but his knight always smiled and shook his head. They never strayed far from the palace, and never for more than a few hours, even though the knight’s flying horse could have taken them anywhere in the world.

The grassy meadow nestled at the base of the kingdom’s sole fire mountain is the knight’s favorite place to take his prince. It’s impossible to get to without a boat – or a flying horse – so the chances of being seen or interrupted are nonexistent. Most importantly, it has, in the knight’s opinion – the most beautiful view of the stars of any place in the United Lands.

“Durbe,” the prince says as the knight helps him off the pegasus, “I think Merag has some suspicions.”

“Why do you think that, my friend?” Durbe asks placidly, looping the reigns around the pegasus’s saddle. There’s no fear that his companion would fly off and leave them stranded. “The fact that she has people follow us through the palace?”

The prince rolls his eyes but he lets Durbe link their fingers together and lead him to the hill. “I _told_ you to call me Nasch when we’re alone, and Merag—well, yeah, that’s part of it, but she’s also been asking me these weird questions about you.”

Durbe releases Nasch’s hand and settles himself at the base of a few particularly smooth boulders. “Such as?”

Nasch plops himself next to Durbe and leans back, eyes fixed on the night sky above. Durbe can’t tell for sure through the semidarkness, but he thinks Nasch’s face might be a little red. “It’s nothing.”

Durbe lifts an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he keeps his eyes focused on Nasch’s profile – his sharp nose and chin, and his incredibly blue eyes that reflect the starlight above them. After a few minutes, Nasch relaxes, sliding ever so slightly closer to Durbe, and Durbe seizes the opportunity.

“The stars are stunning tonight,” he says casually. “More than usual, I mean.”

“There’s no moon,” Nasch murmurs. “Without that extra light, the starlight is more visible.”

…typically, Nasch would ruin the perfect setup, but Durbe was undeterred. “Do you have a favorite star?”

They’ve had this conversation before and Nasch had admitted to not knowing what star he liked best, but to his surprise, Nasch furrows his brows this time. “Not yet.”

Durbe props himself up on his elbow and stares at Nasch, who glances up at him in return. “You just haven’t thought about it?”

“No, I mean…” Nasch shifts again and frowns. “Are you trying to get me to say something sappy?”

“Something sappy?” Durbe laughs. “It is an honest question, my friend. You don’t have to answer.” Truth be told, Durbe _is_ trying to get Nasch to say something sappy, but Nasch needn’t know that for certain until after the fact.

“Well…” Nasch sighs. “It’s strange, Durbe. I look at all these stars and there’s not one that stands out to me yet… but I can’t shake the feeling that the star I’m looking for will be there soon.” He side-eyes Durbe, who is watching Nasch intently. “If you laugh, I’ll punch you.”

Durbe holds out his hand placidly. “I wasn’t thinking about laughing, my friend. You’re just usually not this philosophical when we’re together.”

Nasch shrugs.

“Anyway,” Durbe says, “you know what else is beautiful? Besides the stars, I mean.”

He can almost hear Nasch rolling his eyes. “Durbe, if you say _you are, Nasch_ , I swear to the gods I’ll—“

Durbe leans over, cutting off Nasch’s mild threat with a kiss. Nasch splutters for a second, but lets it continue for about thirty seconds – biting and nibbling and sucking and licking included – before Durbe pulls away. Nasch’s face is definitely burning; Durbe can feel it now.

“Your flustered face,” Durbe concludes, laughing, and Nasch gives him a weak punch.

“I can’t believe I saw that trap and walked into it anyway,” Nasch mutters, but he doesn’t seem displeased.

Durbe leans against the boulder again, still smiling. “My friend, I am still quite curious. What sorts of questions have your sister been asking?”

“Oh gods, Durbe, it’s so embarrassing.” Nasch rubs his eyes. “Don’t laugh.”

Durbe makes no promises there.

“She… she… asifyouhadatmmm…”

There’s an awkward pause.

“What?”

Nasch takes a deep breath and blurts out rapidly, “she asked if you had a tattoo.”

The silence is more pronounced this time before Durbe bursts out laughing.

“Don’t _laugh_!” Nasch whines, elbowing Durbe in the ribs, but Durbe only laughs harder.

“I’m sorry,” Durbe manages, wiping the tears from his eyes, “but I can’t help it.”

Nasch scowls and folds his arms. He looks about ten years old again, pouting because his father won’t let him have any wine or train with the knights.

Durbe finally clears his throat as his laughter subsides into small chuckles. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you reply to this… inquiry?”

“I told her I wouldn’t know,” Nasch replies testily. He’s still pouting, and decides to turn his attention back to the sky. Durbe joins him, and Nasch at least lets Durbe entwine their fingers again, so Nasch isn’t completely mad.

“You know,” Durbe says, fighting back the laughter again, “I could show you my tattoo but it would require me taking my pants off.”

It’s a complete lie, of course; Durbe has no markings on his body at all. But Nasch’s stifled yell and the sharp jab in Durbe’s ribs were the best parts of the night.


End file.
